


and more it cannot die

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Genderswap, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, dfab eren, dmab armin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 13:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3531161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh, she is a vixen, a temptress, a spider weaving a seductress' web, in which Armin has been rendered absolutely helpless. Prone as he is, there is little more for him to do than allow her to sink her fangs into his flesh and have her wicked way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and more it cannot die

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not going to pretend that this was anything more than a self indulgent tryst at four o'clock in the morning. i gave it a quick look over, but it's likely that i still missed some typos and errors. you'll have to forgive me on that account. anywho, have some really nice dfab!eren and dmab!armin eremin porn. because the world needs more of that. trust me, i'm a doctor.

There are very few things that Armin values more than a night in with Eren after a long, hard week at work. Armin does love his job, honestly; with the amount of schooling he put into getting where he is now, the countless nights of sleep lost because his nose was too buried in a book, or his heart was pounding with anxiety before an exam, it would be stupid of him not to be mindlessly in love with his profession. But that does not mean that sometimes he doesn't wish he could have chosen a career field that was slightly less demanding of his attention. Even now, on a Saturday night with Eren's head pillowed in his lap and his hand running through the length of her thick brown hair, Armin is on call. Any minute now they could page him in. It wouldn't be the first time something like that has happened, and it definitely would not be the last.

Aside from that, there's also the sadness that being a pediatric doctor entails. He knew from the start that it wasn't going to be all walls painted with primary colors, animal decals, and happy, smiling children. Still. It's always more than he's able to handle when he has to deliver bad news to parents of sick children, and even worse when he has to deliver that same news to the kids themselves. There's a little girl right now whose health is deteriorating, and while she seems to be at terms with it herself, Armin cannot say the same for her parents. Every day he comes in, he's reminded of her strength, her will to fight what he knows is likely going to be a losing battle. But her parents make constant demands. Better medicine. More treatment. Better doctors. And Armin is trying to be patient, he's doing his absolute best, but it never seems to be enough. He's trying to be understanding, but he is only human, and even he has his faults, despite what Eren might say.

“Where'd you go?”

Armin blinks and looks down, startled from his thoughts. “Huh?”

Eren has her eyes fixed on him, though they look heavy with sleep. She always gets tired when he plays with her hair. Armin must admit that it's a weakness he does love to exploit. “You were a million miles away just now.” She says, pushing herself up to hover over his lap. He smiles at her, raising a hand to brush an errant hair away from her face. No amount of brushing or combing will ever be able to tame it, it all but has a mind of its own, falling in loose waves and coils to frame the gentle curves of her girlish face. Sometimes, _most_ of the time, he is overcome by how beautiful she is, how lucky he is to be able to call her his own. Though there really never was anyone else for him, not since they were young and paper airplanes and scraped knees had been their folly.

“Just thinking.” Armin replies. Then, because he's bad at keeping things from her, he sighs and elaborates with a sad smile. “I have a lot on my mind, I suppose.”

“When don't you?” Eren sits up a little more straight, swinging a leg over Armin's lap so that she straddles him – and even the most blind men would not miss the mischievous glint, the tell-tale darkening of this _wicked_ girl's eyes as she situates herself with more pointed force than necessary. Oh, she is a vixen, a temptress, a spider weaving a seductress' web, in which Armin has been rendered absolutely helpless. Prone as he is, there is little more for him to do than allow her to sink her fangs into his flesh and have her wicked way. “But you're not at work tonight.”

Lips trace the shell of his ear, and it is impossible for Armin to prevent the shudder that runs its course through his body. He feels the flames of her lips down to his toes, releasing a shaky breath as the dulcet husk of her alto tones lilt directly into his skin. “Saturdays are _my_ nights, we've discussed this. Don't you know how needy I get?” Like it makes her point, she drives her hips down, and _curse_ that she chooses not to wear pants around the house – but also _bless_ it. She mouths along his jaw, breath moist on his skin. Everything is so much hotter than it was just a moment ago. Is that his chest heaving, or hers? He can hardly tell, just hopes it isn't his own. How embarrassing that would be. “I get so lonely, sometimes. I couldn't tell you how many times I've had to bury my face in your pillow and squeeze a hand between my legs, pretending that it was _you_...”

Armin's skin runs hot. “Eren...” It comes out softly, far more breathy than he means it to. But _god_ that image is fever inducing. Of Eren alone in their bedroom, breathing in his smell with fingers teasing heated flesh before working furiously against building moisture, the soft noises he knows she makes, hips bucking and writhing against her own hand until it would be too much, but never, _never_ enough.

Her mouth finds the corner of his, then, and he turns, catches her off-guard if the look on her face is anything to go by, and then they are kissing. At first the angle is all wrong, but, oh, when she tilts her head just so, it is _perfect_. Splendid, and perfect. Wet tongues, sharp teeth digging into his lower lip, pulling it until it slips free, and he chases the heat of her sinful mouth, swallows up the diminutive sounds she is making, wraps his hands around her waist and tugs her impossibly closer. Armin shoves his hands up the back of her shirt and takes pride in the way that Eren shivers, breath coming harder just from something as simple as the skin on skin contact of his fingers digging into her lower back.

Armin jerks away from the kiss with a broken groan when Eren drives her hips down, down, _down_ against his center, where he has grown hard mostly from her words alone. She chuckles a breathy laugh, the devious look on her face smug as smug can be. “Someone's excited.”

“You're one to talk.” He mumbles before boldly sliding a hand to the front of her underwear, pressing his fingers into slick, relenting wetness. Her entire body trembles with it, the movement of her hips stuttering, breath _heaving_ out a moan. Now it's Armin's turn to smirk as he rubs his hand along the fabric of her panties, humming low in his chest. “You're already so wet, just from a little kissing. Or maybe you were just anticipating this, huh? Waiting for the perfect moment to strike like the viper you are, right, Eren?”

Hand moving and pressing harder, Armin isn't surprised that she doesn't dignify him with a verbal response, instead allowing her body to do all the talking with the way she bears down on his hand, shoulders hunkered in as she seeks to rob her pleasure from his fingers. “Even through your panties, you're going to cum, aren't you? Such a filthy girl.” Eren moans at his words, but it's wispy, the same way she always gets right before her orgasm takes her by force. Her body is picking up the slack now, and fuck all if it isn't the hottest thing Armin has ever seen in his life. The way her mouth is hanging open, the sweat beading along the line of her hair, eyes squeezed shut tight and breath coming out in nothing but a litany of glorious, delightful moans.

Deciding to take mercy on her, Armin shifts his fingers to an approximation of where her clit is. A close approximation, apparently. Eren's mouth falls open and she's _panting_ , hissing, _begging_ in wordless please with her head tossing back as she presses down and _rides_ his hand, hands coming up to dig nails into his shoulders as her thighs spasm, entire body going rigid as she lets out a long, tremulous moan of his name before she goes entirely boneless and slack, collapsing forward against his chest. But Armin is far from done with her.

He removes his hand from the place between her legs and brings it to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean of her sticky cum. Eren lifts her head just in time to catch him, flushing a vivid red at the sight and groaning, whether because she is appalled or because it's still too soon for her to be getting hot again, Armin is unsure. He merely smiles, wrapping his hands around her thighs and bodily lifting her as he rises to his feet. With a squawk, Eren reflexively wraps her legs around his waist, letting herself be carried from the living room. They'd been watching a movie at some point, earlier in the evening, but it's been forgotten some time ago; Armin couldn't even tell you the name of it if he tried, now.

On the way to the bedroom, Armin is forced to stop and press Eren to the wall for the sake of kissing her senseless, just for a brief moment as he then continues on to their room. Eren attacks his throat, and he chides her gently, “No marks, I have work tomorrow.” But she shrugs her shoulders like she doesn't care much about that, sucking a sharp bruise just behind his ear that makes him hiss as he deposits her on the bed. He all but has to tear himself away to kick off his loose sleep pants, reaching back to pull his shirt over his head. Eren is on him in an instant, dragging his body down to cover her own and to drag him into a searing kiss. It's like the first orgasm has done nothing for her but taken off the edge, a gateway drug to what is likely going to end up being a very long, very enjoyable night.

Armin pulls away from the heat of her mouth to sit back on his legs, tucking his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties. The wet spot on their front is hard to ignore, and Armin finds himself staring at it for much longer than he would care to admit. Eren has to go as far as to jar him in the side with a press of her knee. When he glances up at her face, she's grinning, brow raised. Allow Armin to reiterate: _vixen_. Scowling and flushing, he smacks her legs and finally tugs the underwear down so that he can toss it over his shoulder into the dark abyss of their bedroom. If he'd been staring before, then he's certainly awestruck, now. Armin could be faced with this view a million times, and would still never tire of it. Never could he grow tired of the glistening wet of her core, and he thinks, _I did that_ , with some sort of primal pride.

Eren reaches one of her hands down to drag her fingers between her legs, catching some of that moisture on her fingers, and Armin follows the movement of her hand as she brings it to her own mouth to lick it clean, and dear lord she is going to be the death of him. This is it, this right here, watching his girlfriend sucking her fingers dry of her own bodily fluids, holy god in heaven above. Wide eyed and momentarily at a loss of breath, Armin only stares as she reaches down again to sink her fingers into herself. Eren moans loudly, just for show, just to make sure she has his full attention, but was there really any question?

“Are you just going to sit there and stare all night, or are you going to do something?” Armin knows she's trying to taunt him, but he does not miss how short of breath she is, barely perceptible crack in her voice, or how urgently she moves her fingers, sinks them into the second knuckle and twitches with it. Before, when she'd talked about being needy, she definitely had not been kidding.

Armin takes her by the wrist and pulls her hand free, replaces it with one of his own, and loves the way she breathes his name like that. Like it is a holy word, and he is her deity. But she has it all wrong, all mixed up, all turned around: it is _her_ that needs to be worshiped. So worship he does, sliding to his stomach on the bed and pulling his hand out, spreading her legs to make room for his head to sink into the space between them. Immediately her hands fly to his head, fingers tangling in his hair as her head slings back and her back arcs up so beautifully that he wishes he could capture this moment on film, for the ability to burn the image into his retinas forever.

Eren is beautiful on a day to day basis, this is something that everyone knows. She is fierce, and independent, passionate, loud, crass, and, yes, a bit of a tomboy – but Armin loves her just the same for it, would change nothing about the hoodies she wears and the stains on her jeans, or the buns she always has her hair knotted into atop her head. But like this, she is a _goddess_. And Armin is doing nothing but bringing her an overdue offering as he licks into her, sliding his hands up and along the curve of her back as it bows up, cries pouring from her mouth as hymns and gospels. She clamps her thighs around his head, tugs at his hair, and he just goes deeper. Sucks her clit into his mouth and teases at it with his teeth until she is screaming herself raw, yanking her hands free of his hair to tug at the sheets as she cums, spine so perfectly bent that Armin thinks it might snap if it goes any further.

Lapping up all of the excess that drips out of her and onto her quaking inner thighs, Armin extracts himself and slides up the sinuous line of Eren's body, to kiss her slack mouth, giving her the chance to savor just how amazing she tastes. Call him addicted – he cannot deny it.

“Fuck,” she breathes against him, though she is smiling, blissfully fucked out. Armin, however, is still achingly hard. Which Eren is quick to make note of when she smacks out of their sloppy kiss, the delicious taste of herself on her own tongue. “You've already given me two orgasms, and I haven't even given you one.” She follows these words by reaching down to rub the outline of his dick through his boxers, and Armin allows himself to get lost in it for a moment. The feeling of her hand tracing his cock, already painful in its constrictions, and by this point he's just a ticking time bomb ready to go off at any second, so he has to bat her hand away, because he doesn't want a handjob. What he wants is to sink into Eren and fuck her until she's screaming his name so loud that their next door neighbors will be able to hear, and probably fucking pronounce it right for once.

It's a priority of his to make quick work of his boxers, shoving them down and kicking them off. Eren watches hungrily, and Armin _tsks_ at her. “You're insatiable.” He mumbles, leaning down to kiss her. Her fingers twine at the nape of his neck, and she hums, nodding with absolutely no shame. Not that she has any need for it. Armin hasn't been _completely_ selfless in getting her off; he lives it almost more than getting off himself.

Almost.

“Fuck me.” She whispers, and Armin doesn't need to be told twice.

With a hand reaching down to line himself up, Armin begins to slide in. Eren's so deliciously wet and relaxed that her body offers practically no resistance, giving way to him, quite nearly sucking him inside. Eren hisses, but her moan matches the one that Armin grunts out when he's finally bottomed out. Inside, her walls are tight around his dick, scorching his skin and leaving him wholly, irrevocably speechless, breathless, forcing him to his absolute limit. Armin takes one of Eren's legs and bends it over his shoulder and presses impossibly _deeper_ , eliciting the most delectable sound yet from her kiss swollen lips.

The first thrust rocks her body up the bed, the next tugs the sheets from their loosened hold on the bed, and after that, Armin refuses to hold back even the slightest. He fucks into her hard, fast, and dirty: exactly the way he knows Eren likes it. Every other breath is a heated moan, a panted, breathy cry of his name.

“ _Fuck_.” Eren hisses, using the hold she has at the back of his neck to tug him down so that she may lick into his mouth, suck his tongue into her own while his hips relentlessly pound into her. Her moans grow increasingly higher in frequency, hands slipping and sliding along sweat slicked skin, biting into his back and _dragging_. Armin hisses, back bending, just knowing that she's leaving marks and loving it, snapping his hips forward harder and harder into her.

She cries out, loudly, cursing and hissing and panting and short of breath as she jerks a hand down to work harshly at her clit, the slap of skin almost, but not quite drowning out the slick movement of her fingers against the swollen, hot flesh there. She is sensitive and overworked, jaw tight and eyes focused with determination as she works herself to the edge, keening out a pornographic, “fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuckfuckfuckfuck_ ,” before she finally gets herself there and cums one final time. The grand finale as her body sings for Armin, and _oh_ , and _ah_ , this isn't going to last much longer for him either.

Once she has had her final orgasm, she is exhausted, Armin knows, but still she wraps her free leg around him and pulls him in deeper, meeting him for each harsh, deep thrust with one of her own. “Come on,” she whispers to him, panting the words out, directly into his parted mouth. “Come on, baby, cum for me.”

And how could he _ever_ deny her something like that?

Armin's orgasm is punched out of him, his thrusts an uneven staccato as he finishes inside of her with a low, drawn out, pleased moan of her name. The holy sacrament. Forever and ever: _amen_.

He lets her leg slip off his shoulder just in time for his arms to give out and for him to fall forward onto her. Eren gives out an _oof_ , huffing and smacking him on his sweaty back. “You're not exactly featherlight, you know.” She grumbles, but all Armin can do is grunt in return, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder. He can't even find the energy to pull out, exhaustion sweeping over him in the wake of a truly transcendental orgasm. Armin may, in fact, be brainless, now.

But Eren does not give him the pleasure of afterglow, her hands shoving at his shoulders as she whines. “Get your dick out of me, you fucking heathen.” There's no real vindication in her words, but Armin huffs and pushes himself, with a great deal of effort, up just enough to tug himself out and flop over onto his back. They're going to need to shower. Eventually. Probably in the morning.

“You didn't even use a condom.” Eren complains beside him, jarring him from his half-asleep state with a smack to his chest. He jolts, groaning and mumbling his own half hearted complaints under his own breath. Five seconds of afterglow, that's all he's asking for. “If I get pregnant, that's all on you.”

Armin cracks an eye open to peer at her, to look at her puffed up cheeks and twisted lips, traces his gaze down her body and gives an appreciative hum. Her skin is splotchy red, and there's still a wetness between her thighs. _Mm_. “There are worse things I can imagine.” Armin says with a smile, reaching out to tug her closer, letting her press into his side, head resting on his chest. He rubs his hand along her back, and she sighs.

“Worse things than being a parent at twenty-seven? I don't know. I think that might just be as bad as it gets.” Armin laughs at her, a soft huff of breath as he leans down to kiss her sweetly, sweeter still when she scoots up to follow him when he leans back again, unable to have enough of him. They kiss for a little while, lips pressing and parting and tongues teasing until it turns into just the two of them breathing against each others open, smiling mouths. Blissful, happy, sated, and _very_ exhausted.

“A family with you isn't exactly what I would call _bad_.” Armin murmurs, making Eren smile, blush, and duck her head to hide her face against his shoulder. His fingers trail through her sweat matted hair, and Armin is content. Could not _be_ more content than this. “I love you.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Eren says, words muffled by the skin of Armin's pec. It tickles, and he huffs. “I love you, too. Loser.”

Armin flips them, rolls them over to pin her body beneath his, and Eren laughs – a beautiful, melodic sound that Armin drinks in when he presses his lips to hers, though it is really just him pressing his smile in kind to her own, the two of them laughing far too much for actual kissing. “You're going to be spending the rest of your life with this loser.” He says quietly, and she hums.

“I never said it was a bad thing.”

After that, they continue to kiss, trailing hands along skin with no real intent, the only sounds in the room those of lips smacking and matching pairs of breathless, awed, wonder filled laughs and sentiments. And when exhaustion really does wrap itself around the two of them, bones too tired to keep it up any longer, brains too muddled with the need for sleep, Armin curves himself to fit along Eren's back, his bare chest teased by the light fabric of her t-shirt, an arm coiling around her waist to keep tight against him through the night. Presses a kiss to the top of her spine, knows she is smiling without having to look, and shuts his eyes.

Tomorrow, he will go back to work. That girl will still be there, and her parents will still be asking too much of him, and the primary walls with their lion stickers and bright, obnoxious paintings will still tease him with their cruel ironies, but tonight. Tonight, he is with Eren, and for him, that is all that will ever truly matter.

 


End file.
